


What's A God to a Nonbeliever?

by beanmom



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Consensual Violence, Crying, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punching, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanmom/pseuds/beanmom
Summary: Light needs to /hurt/ sometimes. L gives him what he needs.





	What's A God to a Nonbeliever?

**Author's Note:**

> This has been stuck in my head for weeks, I had to get it out somehow lmao hope yall enjoy it! Unbetaed, like I straight up didn't even reas over it so there's definitely gonna be typos
> 
> Don't read if corporeal punishment is a no for you, there's a lot.

Light's eyes are watering, he's already gasping when L shoves him, his back falling against the mattress with a thump.

Long fingers squeeze at his crotch, and he's already hard, already leaking through the flimsy fabric of his pants and underwear, the other hand sliding up his shirt. His nipples bud in the cool sir and teeth are on them in a matter of seconds, pulling whimpers and cries from Light's throat.

"What do you need?" L's voice is raspy and full of want, sharp teeth driving into Light's throat directly after his question.

Light's breathing gets a little erratic as he hesitates for a second, the pain in his sensitive neck curling as arousal in his stomach.

"Hit me," he says, through gasps. 

L pulls back, looking him over, as if looking for the best place to attack, the most effective spot to _ruin_ him. "Okay." 

A pale fist drives into Light's stomach and he wheezes, crying out as all the air in his lungs rushes out of him. The rebound of pain once L's hand is clear goes right to his cock. 

"A.. _again_ ,," Light groans, his cock aching in his pants.

L obliges, the second punch pulling a scream from Light's throat. He's trembling, shaking with pain and arousal and L's fingers rubbing gently into the spot he just abused makes him feel heady. Like he's high on the pain, or high on L, or sex or _something_. 

"God, please hit me again," he sobs, and L's fist drives into his stomach punishingly hard, not waiting this time but knocking the wind out of him again and again and _again_ until he feels like a punching bag, tears streaming down his face. He's making pathetic noises, sad little cries with each hit and he'd be afraid of hurting something inside himself if his aching cock wasn't begging him to keep going. 

"Look at you," L croons at him when he finally stops, lips pressing into the bruised skin. L doesn't seem like much in the way of strength, but he hits _hard_  and fast and makes it  _hurt_ and he can feel an orgasm building, his cock almost painful, the softness of L's lips against his stinging skin threatening to send him over the edge. 

L's hand clamps down around his cock, his grip tight as a vice. Light whimpers at the pain, more fluid leaking from the tip. 

"Not yet." L smirks at him. "Your pants haven't even come off and you're already about to cream yourself?" 

Light cries out as his orgasm is stopped in its tracks, gasping heavily, struggling with the pain in his stomach. 

L's lips are pressing against his cheek. "Breathe," he reminds him, a spiny hand sliding through Light's hair, the other slipping into Light's underwear to free his cock when his breathing is finally steady again. 

Fingers pull, squeeze, pinch and knead his cock until his thighs are trembling and Light's nearly crying again. But of course, the hand pulls away too soon. 

"L...?" Light whimpers, his throat dry. 

"Yes?" Lips press to the bruises adorning Light's stomach, brown dyed a deep people. Knowing L, he thinks it looks gorgeous, although anyone else would disagree. No matter though, the task at hand is simple, exact. 

L would hit him. And Light would cum. And the gratitude on his lips and tongue would make L cum too.

"Please hit me again." 

L almost laughs at the request. "Give your stomach a break, okay?" 

Light frowns. He knows, in his mindset, when he feels so high, every twinge of pain is magnified into three times the pleasure, but all he wants is to  _feel_ it, he doesn't care how. 

"Please," he whimpers, reaching for L's hand. " _Please._ "

L picks up Light's reaching hand, shushing him gently before pressing his lips to the knuckles. "Okay. But still, not your stomach." 

Light almost falls off the bed in his haste to present his ass to L's unforgiving hand, and L laughs at him, pressing a kiss to his shoulderblade.

"Good boy," he says and Light /cries/ with the intensity of arousal from just those two words.

L's hands are on him, big, slender palms and dextrous fingers squeezing the globes of his ass. Without warning, L delivers a quick slap to the back of Light's thigh, pulling a surprised whine from his throat.

"Please, oh /god/, please L, I /need/ it" Light's crying, tears streaming down his face, staining the pillow his head is resting on. 

The punishing slaps come now, fast and hard enough to make it sting for days into the future.

"Look at you," L croons, delivering another slap to Light's red ass, making him yelp, the noise sounding remarkably similar to a kicked dog. 

"Look at you, my filthy little god." L pauses to squeeze Light's ass, soothing the reddening globes somewhat. "My little pain slut." 

Light's brain is barely working, his whole body is a giant never ending, the cries and moans and gasps coming automatically with every slap. 

"I wonder if you get off more on being hurt, or  _me_ being the one to hurt you?" L's fingers pinch the raw skin of Light's ass, pulling a sob from his raw windpipe. 

"Aren't you supposed to be a god,  _Kira_?" L's hand strikes again and Light whimpers with exhaustion and arousal. "You aren't even close. You're just a whore, getting off to being punched  and kicked around like the pain slut you are.

"What's a 'god' to a nonbeliever?" L leans down to bite Light's earlobe. "Just a filthy whore." 

Light's hips are grinding against the sheets, his legs shifting together and apart to give his cock some much needed friction.

"Please," he rasps, his thighs trembling. " _Please!"_

L slides his hand between Light's hips and the sheets, squeezing Light's cock in his slender fingers. 

"That's too bad," L muses, his other hand squeezing his own cock, "I could've fucked that beautiful ass of yours, fucked your tight hole hard and /squeezed/ that raw flesh until you came all over yourself. 

"Maybe another time." 

L cums with a soft noise, squeezing Light's cock a little harder then he needs to, tearing a pathetic sounding whimper from Light's throat.

Light's too exhausted to even moan, he just cries weakly as his cock spurts into L's hand, the other one sliding up to rub his back between his shoulder blades. His hand is warm. It feels safe with it there.

"That's it," L says softly as Light goes boneless against the mattress, "Good boy."

L's arms slide under Light's body, scooping him into his arms bridal style, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The pain hits Light all at once, now that he's coming back to himself. 

"F..uck," Light groans, hiding his face in L's chest. 

"It's okay, I've got you, You're okay." L turns the tub faucet on, placing Light gently into the warm water once it's full. 

Light sighs and closes his eyes, letting the warmth soak away any leftover pain. L climbs in behind him and squeezes his shoulders letting Light's head rest against his chest. Light smiles dreamily and drifts off, trusting that L will clean him off and get him back into bed with no issues.

**Author's Note:**

> Aftercare is important, ever if you're a god. Might write a chapter 2 that's just L taking care of all these "wounds"


End file.
